


Minutes from the Inaugural Meeting of the Fanclub

by damalur



Category: Skip Beat!
Genre: F/M, Female Friendship, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5587033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damalur/pseuds/damalur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moko and Corn arrive at an understanding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minutes from the Inaugural Meeting of the Fanclub

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ncisduckie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ncisduckie).



> Happy holidays, ncisduckie! Thank you so much for your patience with my tangled deadlines. I loved all your prompts and tried to integrate Ren/Kyoko with Love Me friendship fic; this is the end result. <3
> 
> (Many thanks to Lotte for the beta.)

Kanae was most definitely _not_ in the habit of loitering on sets that were not her own. She was a rising actress who had not only her fledgling career but also her family, her work as a Love Me member, and her self-appointed position as belligerent chaperone to Mogami Kyoko to consider. It was for the latter reason that she was wasting her time today; Kyoko didn't need a mentor, precisely, and she could take care of herself—she was something of a genius at hard work, which Kanae respected—but Kanae also privately believed that what Kyoko did need was a defender. Certainly she hadn't had many of them in her sixteen years prior to meeting Kanae.

All right. They were _friends_. There was no need to make a fuss about it.

Kyoko's current project was a historical drama, and if Mio had been her introduction to show business and Natsu her breakout role, this was going to be the series that made her a star. She played the lead, of course, and it was about time—Kyoko had merely been excited to be cast in part that wasn't a mean girl, but Kanae felt it was long overdue that directors stopped giving her supporting roles best suited for character actresses and started giving her parts where she could shine. Not, of course, that she ever intended to tell Kyoko that.

The problem today was that Kyoko's leading man was _also_ loitering on the set. If Kyoko had been excited to find out she wasn't playing a bully, she had been simply ecstatic to discover that she'd been cast opposite Tsuruga Ren. Kanae was less than thrilled about that news. It wasn't that she didn't like Tsuruga; he was a good actor and a punctual man, and Kanae approved of punctuality. It wasn't even exactly that he was her primary competition for Kyoko's attention, although at one time that had certainly colored her view of him. No, the problem was that he had gone from Kyoko's rival to her mentor to her very good friend and was now on the verge of becoming more, even if neither he nor Kyoko realized it... and Kanae still wasn't entirely sure that he _deserved_ Kyoko.

Also, she hadn't talked to him since Kyoko had told her in confidence that he was the son of a very famous actor and a very famous model, and to be frank, Kanae wasn't sure how to address him. She didn't want to alienate him; there was her career to think of, and, fine, Kyoko would be sad if Kanae didn't at least make an overture of acceptance towards Tsuruga. Kanae would only admit it under pain of death, but when Kyoko was sad, Kanae was miserable.

She huffed at that thought, locked her phone and put it away, and squared her shoulders. The one thing she was absolutely not going to do was let a slightly unhinged half-American prodigy scare her off.

He was standing with his hands in his pockets, watching Kyoko block out a scene with the director, when Kanae strode up beside him. Either he wasn't shooting today, or he'd already finished his takes; he was out of costume and his severe-looking assistant was nowhere to be seen. And yes, even in casual clothing, Tsuruga wasn't exactly ugly, although he was too tall for Kanae's taste. If the smitten look on his face when he followed Kyoko around didn't turn their interactions into a comedy, the severity of their height difference certainly did. His foreign blood went a long way towards explaining his inseam length, at least.

Kanae kept her gaze fixed on Kyoko as she said, "Good afternoon, Tsuruga-san."

"Kotonami-san," he said, presumably with his usual blandly pleasant smile, although Kanae doubted he was looking away from Kyoko either. Kyoko was dolled up as an aristocrat; her role was that of a peasant revolutionary turned wife of an nobleman (that was Tsuruga-san, of course), and she quite plainly adored the elaborate costumes and sets that went along with the drama.

The director finished explaining what he wanted and stepped away, and Kyoko gave him an enormous smile and a thumbs-up before smoothing her hands down her front. And then the cameras were on her, and she wasn't Kyoko at all.

It was partly the mobility of her face, her awareness of her own body, and her expressive eyes that made her so captivating, Kanae knew. Kyoko was only beginning to learn how to use that mobility to its fullest advantage, but even so, she was still riveting in what was only a short scene with no dialogue. 

There was anger in the set of her shoulders as she recalled the argument her character had just had with her husband, but the way she reached out to touch the handle of the closed door before turning away in disgust revealed a longing so hidden that she didn't want to admit it to herself. There was more to it than her face and body language, though; as dense as she could be, Kyoko had an uncanny ability to read people, whether fictional or not. What Kanae didn't like to contemplate was where Kyoko had picked up that ability. It was the trait of children abused by their parents, wives who were used by their husbands and whose only defense was to learn when their abuser wanted to be flattered and when he wanted to be worshipped and when he was so angry that it was better to vanish from the room entirely, in spirit if not in being.

Not that Kyoko was a victim—she had that vindictive streak, for one thing, and enough grit to choke someone, and if she occasionally dissolved into hysterics, it had never prevented her from carrying on with the same force as a bullet train. And _not_ that Kanae was protective. No. Definitely not.

"She's quite good," Tsuruga said.

"She's incredible," Kanae snapped, which was fact and not at all a defensive or protective thing to say.

He did look at her then; Kanae thought he might have been startled that she'd dared to speak harshly to him, but there was an amused edge there, too. He was hard to read. "She is," he agreed.

"She's gifted," Kanae said, "and she doesn't need someone she respects damning her with faint praise—"

"Kotonami-san…" said Tsuruga, and then he continued with something that made Kanae's jaw drop: "You're right."

"Of course I am," Kanae said immediately, thankful that she was herself a good enough actress to talk despite her shock.

"Sometimes I overlook Kyoko-chan's sensitive nature," he said. "Her resilience is so remarkable that it's easy to forget how closely she pays attention to the people she… cares about."

Now there was an understatement; Kanae had once shown up to a lunch date without wearing lip gloss, and Kyoko had browbeaten her about it until Kanae admitted that she was frustrated at having missed the opportunity to audition for a national commercial that had caught her interest. It was Kyoko all over; she was the most brazen, obnoxious, bird-brained, talented, and caring person Kanae had ever met. Kanae didn't exactly love the unpredictability that came with being Kyoko's… ugh, 'best friend', but there were upsides.

"I apologize for speaking harshly," she said stiffly.

"No apology necessary, Kotonami-san," said Tsuruga. "I'm glad Kyoko has such a staunch defender."

"Yes, well, she's annoying when she's sad," Kanae replied, and then was then uncomfortably aware that browbeating a man for praise that was slightly less effusive than Kanae would have liked wasn't a rational reaction. Kyoko was rubbing off on her.

Tsuruga fell silent for another moment, and then he said, "It's all right if you're uncomfortable around me. I gave Kyoko permission to tell you about my history"—Kanae thought he sounded a little pained here—"but I realize it isn't a story that would make you think well of me."

Kanae snorted. "It isn't that," she said, "although she did make me swear on the graves of my entire family that I would never, ever repeat a word of what was said to me, upon pain of disembowelment and the damnation of being cast only in Fuwa's music videos for the rest of my life—"

Tsuruga chuckled. "That sounds like her."

"She's so dramatic and childish," Kanae said.

"The worst part is how charming it is," Tsuruga said, and at that moment Kanae realized that she had just discovered in Tsuruga the rarest of people: a kindred spirit.

"It's like spending time with a possessed thunderstorm," she added.

"Or someone out of a fairytale."

"Exactly!" she said.

"Kotonami-san—"

"Please," she said, "call me Kanae."

He smiled briefly, although his attention rapidly and invariably returned to Kyoko. "Kanae-san," he said, "I was thinking it might be nice to do something special for Kyoko-chan on her birthday this year. Any interest in helping me plan the event?"

 _No,_ Kanae thought. "Yes," her mouth said without her permission.

"Wonderful," said Tsuruga Ren, and that was how Kanae knew things had spiraled completely out of her control.

(Still, when the scene was finished, Kyoko flung herself at Kanae for a hug before bothering to greet Tsuruga, and Kanae was hard-pressed not to take satisfaction in _that_.)


End file.
